The Gift of the Elves
by theshippingprince
Summary: "Doctor, I'm not seeing anything." He looked at her in shock. "The elves, Clara Oswald. The elves are moving." She turned to look at the dolls again. And low and behold, one turned its head and looked at her. And blinked. The rest of the red suited dolls followed suit, eyes fixed on The Doctor and his companion. /Whouffle/
1. Chapter 1

**This is to Emilie and her will to keep going through hardships this past year, and to Sage's extreme ability to keep me smiling at all times. I love you two very much! (They also told me to write this so here I am!)**

**Also Happy Holidays to everyone who is reading this! This is my gift to you!**

**This takes place, since you are probably wondering, between the 50th and the 2013 Christmas Special but closer to the Christmas Special.**

**I hope you all enjoy! **

On the first of December, sixty-three year old widow Adrianne Rosenthal, put up her Christmas decorations. She had always done this. She said it was much better to get it all up as soon as possible, rather than to procrastinate. Not that she had anyone, besides her little grey kitten Emilie-Sage, to come over and see all the hard work that she had put together.

However if anyone knew that she put up the decorations, they would have probably assumed that it was a way that she coped with the loss of her husband. Which was half true. For anyone who has lost anyone, the winter holiday was always tough.

But Mrs Rosenthal was a strong woman. She put up the ornaments that her husband has chosen specifically for her with ease. There was always a time for tears to be shed, she had told herself, and this was not that time. There was a plastic tree with plastic snow that needed to be set up. Stockings to be hung up. Mistletoe to be strung up. (Though she would never be kissed under it, it was still a nice thought.)

The whole affair took just over three hours.

For the rest of the day, the woman sat on her sofa. Of course, she did eat a snack and watch some television, but besides that, she did nothing. Mrs Rosenthal was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. However, she was still proper, in short, she was not one to fall asleep on her sofa.

She got to her feet, groaning quietly about her aching back, and shuffled to her bedroom. The walk from the livingroom to her bedroom seemed quite a bit longer than she remembered it to be. And she finally got there, she kicked off her slippers and went tucked herself into her blankets. She took her glasses off her nose and placed them on her sidetable and was about to switch off the light when something caught her eye.

She squinted at the object. It was red. No, whatever it was, it had a red body. And a little head with a little face painted on it. Clearly a Christmas decoration. But she couldn't place when she had put it there. How mysterious!

Maybe it was the spirit of her husband leaving a little Christmas gift for her to help her get through the holidays.

She smiled softly, knowing that the chances of that being the truth was very slim, and turned off the light. The woman rolled over onto her side, her heart filled with love and sadness. She drifted into a deep sleep, her thoughts only on her husband and how much she wanted him to be with her.

Fortunately for Mrs Rosenthal, she would be seeing him again very very soon.

**Like, favorite, follow and LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THE STORY SO FAR! (Yes our favorite time lord and his quirky companion will be in the next chapter, please don't yell at me.)**

**~Matteo :33**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two! Let us introduce our VERY SHIPPABLE heroes!**

"But that doesn't make sense!" cried the man in the purple bow tie.

His tiny brunette companion shrugged. "That's just how it is."

"It doesn't make sense though!" the man was slowly getting more and more exasperated. "Flying animals pulling a sleigh that is at least five times all of their weight? It just doesn't add up!"

"Well you asked! Don't get all fussy with me!" the tiny lady crossed her arms and wrinkled her nose. But in a cute way (or so the man with the purple bow tie thought).

The man, who was not a man, grumbled under his breath. "Silly human traditions."

"Excuse me? I'm standing right here." She leaned against the railing, raising an eyebrow at him. Though she was minuscule, she was and she always would be, the boss. Clara Oswald. The impossible girl. His Impossible Girl.

Well, not that she knew that.

"Never mind, never mind. It doesn't matter." He fidgeted, waving his arms and hands about. From an outside perspective he might have looked like he was trying to get out of an invisible spiderweb.

"Of course." Clara rolled her eyes but she couldn't stop herself from smiling. That was The Doctor knew. From his floppy hair to his over-sized chin and all the way down to his lace up boots. The Doctor. Her Doctor.

Well, not that she'd admit that to him.

There was an awkward pause.

"Lost?" Clara twirled her skirt slightly.

"No!" He blurted, hitting some switches. "Just... Where we're going, it's so... Boring." He looked at her, his eyes sparkling with delight. "Wouldn't you prefer a planet?"

"I would-"

"Then let's go to one!" The Doctor grinned at his companion.

"No. Doctor, please just listen." the madman pouted. "As much as I'd love to go to a planet with you, I need to do my Christmas shopping."

He gave her a puppy dog look.

"Doctor..."

"Can't your gifts buy themselves? It would be so much easier."

"No, they can't. As much as I'd like them to, they can't." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked at him.

"At least let me take you to a planet afterwards!"

"Alright, alright." No one in the whole universe could resist that chinny face. No one.

He pulled a lever in his TARDIS and the whole room seemed to start spinning. The familiar sensation of adventure flooded Clara's senses. And even though they were headed to a place where she had spent much of her teenage years, it seemed ten times more magical with The Doctor at her side.

The room stopped spinning, the wheezing noise that was the TARDIS's breaks sounded, and the duo bounded for the door. They thrust it open together and peered out.

"Welcome to Earth, Clara Oswald." the alien rethought his wording. "No, let me rephrase that, welcome to a random mall on Earth."

The girl in mention rolled her eyes, smiling brightly, and grabbed The Doctor's hand pulling him into the said boringest place in the universe.

**New chapter up soon! Please like, follow, favorite and most of all TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS STORY IN THE COMMENTS SO FAR! Thank you!**

**~Matteo :33**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three!**

The Doctor, as usual, was right. The Mall was by far the boringest most uninteresting place that he had ever visited. Filled with gossiping human teenage girls, tired adults and lots and lots of merchandise. (But not even good merchandise. If it was merchandise, the least that anyone could do was sell good merchandise.)

In fact, he felt like it might be more enjoyable to rip his (rather beautiful, as he might say himself) hair strand by strand out of his scalp. Clara didn't seem to notice his discomfort, she just looked happy to not have to carry all her purchases on her person. Otherwise she probably would be in the same, if not more, discomfort. In even more fact, the time traveling alien wondered why he had agreed to come here. Why didn't he just take control and steer his TARDIS to some random planet?

Because Clara was the boss. And there was no changing that.

They were currently inside a ornaments store. And he kept knocking into things (courtesy of Clara's purchases), earning an annoyed look from the employees of the store. The Impossible Girl was picking out an ornament for her grandmother, and so he wandered off further into the store where he came face to face with the strangest human Christmas-esque display that he had ever seen in his incredibly long lifetimes.

"Clara...?"

There was no response. She was so entangled in her ornament choosing. Well, that or she was too far away.

He stepped closer to the display, eyeing the strange looking dolls. They were rather small, with red felt bodies and tiny heads, in which huge blue eyes were painted on. They probably looked harmless to the random passer by but The Doctor was not a random passerby. There was something creepy about them. Maybe it was the way that they smiled. Their piercingly white smiles made The Doctor want to cringe or look away.

And then something very strange happened.

One of the dolls blinked at him.

Maybe it was the fact that he was incredibly exhausted from carrying all of Clara's packages around. Maybe it was the fact that he was so bored that his imagination was yelling stupid ideas at him until he believed one of them. But knowing the fact that danger followed the madman with the blue box wherever he set foot, the chances were slim that either of those things were the case.

"Clara!"

She appeared at the end of the isle. "What is it?"

He just pointed at the display.

Clara looked annoyed. "So what? It's just some Elf on the Shelf?"

He shook his head at her.

She looked at the dolls. Nothing moved. Time seemed to slow down, as she searched for what The Doctor was trying to get her to see. Silence.

The Doctor gasped again, this time grabbing Clara's hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Doctor, I'm not seeing anything."

He looked at her in shock.

"The elves, Clara Oswald. The elves are moving."

She turned to look at the dolls again. And low and behold, one turned its head and looked at her. And blinked. And the rest of the blood colored dolls followed suit, their eyes fixed on The Doctor and his companion.

Clara could barely mutter an "oh my" before the duo promptly turned and half walked, half ran all the way back to the TARDIS.

**Yes, okay Elf on the Shelf is pretty dang scary. I don't know about you, but I think they are pretty scary. And what's a better gift to my readers than scary? Please don't forget to favorite, follow, and most importantly tell me what you think of this story in the comments! Thanks a lot!**

**~Matteo :33**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four! If you haven't already looked up what Elf on the Shelf looks like, I would suggest you do so now.**

The Doctor's hands were whirring across the controls of the TARDIS so quickly that they were actually a blur. He was something that Clara hadn't seen in awhile: afraid. But of course he wouldn't admit it to her. He never admitted that he was scared unless the danger was too intense that he didn't know if he could save her. And that had only happened once. Hopefully, it would never happen again.

Clara gripped into the railing, hoping the TARDIS wasn't in the mood to see her tiniest punching bag (aka the Impossible Girl) thrown about like dice from someone's hand. Luckily, The Doctor had found a place to land. He pulled some levers, and the TARDIS came to an abrupt halt.

He turned around to face her, a bit of sweat on his forehead. And he nervously ran a hand through his hair. "So..."

"So..." She responded, looking at her Doctor, who still had every single item that she had bought strung across his lanky body. Which was surprising to the girl in the skirt that was just a little bit too tight. Very surprising.

The Doctor, meanwhile, stumbled to the door of the TARDIS and opened it with the remaining limbs he possessed and basically collapsed onto the the floor in a tangle of limbs and bags. Clara followed quickly behind him.

"Doctor!" Clara shouted, trying to separate him from her gifts. More like trying to separate her gifts from his limbs. "I swear if you crushed anything, I'm going to make you pay for it!"

He groaned, rolled out of the mess, pulled himself onto the couch and lied there very still. She could almost hear his brain whirring and clicking. "Clara. I need you to tell me everything you can remember about those things."

"Elf on the Shelf?" She asked.

"Elf on the Shelf." He nodded.

"Well, they come from a book, I think." The brunette told him, walking over and moving his legs so she could sit. "It's about elves that Santa-" The Doctor snorted, "-sends to watch over all the children who will be receiving presents that year." She plopped down next to him and he threw his legs back over her own.

She continued. "The elf goes and tells Santa-" The Doctor snorted again, "-how the child is behaving and what sort of present they are to be receiving." She turned towards the Time Lord and smacked his knee, "Will you stop laughing whenever I say Santa!"

"I'll stop when Human Traditions stop being silly." She gave him a look. "Okay! Okay!" He sat up, crossed his legs in a pretzel and turned to face her. "That leaves many different solutions, doesn't it, Clara Oswald."

She turned to look at him. "Which are?"

"Suppose, that story of yours is true." The Doctor nodded and looked around the room at the decorated walls and the tree standing in the corner.

"Okay..."

"Well, that leaves us with a few solutions." The Doctor smiled. "Someone, probably the author, has enchanted the elves to do their bidding. Most likely something evil..."

The Doctor continued to babble on about circumstances and reasoning as Clara looked about the room. There was something that wasn't quite right about the whole place. However, she couldn't quite place it. Right on the tip of her tongue, it was.

And then it clicked.

The Impossible Girl grabbed the Time Lord's shoulders and shook him. He held a finger up to her, as if to say that he wasn't quite finished and he would be in a couple seconds. She grumbled briefly before reaching up and pinching his cheek.

"OW!" cried The Doctor. "CLARA! What was that for?" He held onto his cheek, looking at her clearly very shocked and hurt.

"Doctor, you've made a big mistake." His eyebrows knit together in concern. "This isn't my apartment."

The Doctor had his mouth open and was about to apologize when they heard something drop, sounding about the weight of a stuffed animal, and start to walk towards them.

**Please let me know what you think of this! Also just talk to me in general. Please. ****Favorite, follow, and review! **

**~Matteo :33**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five! This one is a bit longer than the rest, hopefully worth the wait...**

Never had The Doctor's hand lost circulation so quickly. Of course, his hand lost circulation quite a bit, especially if he was reading or lying down with his hand at some weird angle, but nothing had happened as quickly as this.

In the few seconds it took both Clara and The Doctor's brains to recognize the familiar sound of footsteps, a big chill to go down both their backs and for them to both latch onto the closest thing that their hands could finds. Which was, in short, each other.

To be more specific, each other's hands. They grabbed for each other, quickly looking like they had never been apart in all of their lives. Locking like magnets. Very frightened magnets, but magnets all the same. Which would have been romantic, however it did seem like a Elf on the Shelf doll was going to come out and devour both the Time Lord and his Impossible Girl alike.

Clara was squeezing The Doctor's hand so tightly it felt like it was going to burst. But he couldn't speak. He wouldn't dare alert the creature to their presence more than they already had. Which was quite a lot.

The footsteps grew closer, and closer and time seemed to slow as the grabbed tightly to each other, waiting for the creature to appear. The footsteps stopped and then the creature appeared.

It was a cat.

A rather small cat. A kitten. With bright green eyes and grey fur. It licked its paw and stared up at them, completely still. And then it darted away, back into the shadows of the hallway.

The Doctor jumped to his feet, pulling Clara, whose hand was still leached to his own, behind him. He chased the cat down the corridor, dodging pieces of furniture and books stacked on the floor. (He jumped over an entire chair, forcing Clara to do the same.) Within seconds, they arrived at the room at the end of the hallway. Just the same as Clara's apartment, the bedroom was rather wide with a large window at one side. The cat was nowhere to be seen.

They stepped into the room, which was surprisingly cold. Like the window was open, but it wasn't. There was dust covering nearly everything. Something had happened there. Something very very important. But no one had come to investigate. Neither wanted to make a sound, scared that they might wake something. Or someone, for that matter.

Clara pointed to the bed, where there was a rather human-sized lump in the Christmassy fabric, and the duo tiptoed towards it. There was a moment of complete silence as they both grabbed a bit of the fabric and yanked it down suddenly.

It took Clara all her might to not scream at the top of her lungs.

Before them laid an older woman. And if it was just an older woman, it would have been perfectly fine however, that was not the case. First off, she was not breathing, her chest was still like the rest of her apartment. The skin on her neck was alright except there was a slit in her throat the length of The Doctor's index finger. But there was no blood. No, there must have been blood but whoever did this (or even whatever creature did this) cleaned their mess up.

However, that was not what made The Doctor's breath catch in his throat.

It was the woman's face.

Her face had been horribly deformed. But not by some toxic chemical or freak accident. By hand. With some sort of knife and some needles and thread. Her face had been cut and sewn back together lazily, but neatly. The woman's cheeks were sewn so the skin bunched at the cheekbone area making them look puffer. Her mouth was stitched into a smile so wide that her lips was ripping slightly. But the most frightening thing about her whole face were her eyes.

Her eyes were stitched open, wider than they were supposed to go, the red of the insides were clearly visible. In fact, if the eyes had been stretched even just a little bit further, the skin would have ripped. The woman's eyes were dry from lack in blinking, and some of the dust that covered the rest of the room had fallen into them. It was clear to both The Doctor and his impossible companion that whoever had stitched this poor old woman's face had used a particular doll as reference.

To be specific: an Elf on the Shelf doll.

The kitten rubbed against Clara's legs, and she couldn't help but jump. This poor woman had had her face turned into one of a doll, and a rather childish one at that. She let the pressure that she had made The Doctor's hand endure go, leaving it at a comfortable squeeze. Which would have been nice if there hadn't been a dead body lying on the bed in front of them with a face stitched to look like an Elf on the Shelf doll.

The Doctor broke the heavy silence. "Well... That was pretty intense."

"You think?"

He laughed breathily, looking around the room. He took in everything, like a detective taking in a murder scene. And then he jumped, over the bed and sniffed at certain objects in the bedroom. Finding what seemed to be fairly interesting things, he continued jumping over tables and ducking under curtains until he came to what seemed to be the most important object in the whole room. The woman's glasses. He picked them up, and carefully licked the lenses. (Which was pretty gross, in Clara's opinion, who knows where those glasses had been?)

"Find anything interesting?" She asked, glad to be looking away from the woman.

"I suppose so, though it may not mean anything. So don't get your hopes up, Clara Oswald." He winked at his tiny companion.

"Spill." She hoped, in the back of her mind, that the woman wouldn't sit up and grab her.

"Well, first off, there is dust. But not a faint layer, this dust is here on thickly. Which does not make sense because our lovely lady friend seems to be well preserved. And the dust is on thickly, meaning that she has been here for awhile but she has not started to decay very noticeably."

"So, that means that she hasn't been here for long?"

"Yes, and whoever caused her to be in the situation that she is in now, did a terrible job of putting fake dust everywhere."

"It's fake dust?"

"Yes, it is unevenly sprinkled around this room. There more on the floor than on higher up places in this room." He nodded to her, turning his back to her.

"So the killer must be quite short... Right?"

But The Doctor did not respond, he was too busy staring at the elephant in the room that hadn't been there only a couple seconds before. A red suited Elf on the Shelf was staring down at him from its perch on the shelf. It was smiling a sort of smile that was more sinister than cheerful. Warily, The Doctor reached one hand up and grabbed the smiling toy as gently as possible.

It did nothing.

Both Clara and The Doctor let out the breath that they had not been aware that they were holding. The Doctor turned and smiled at his companion.

"See?" He told her. "Nothing to worry about." She raised an eyebrow, unsure.

"Aren't you going to do any tests or," she waved her arms about, "thingies with your sonic screwdriver? You usually do thingies with your sonic screwdriver."

"Are we calling them thingies now?" He looked a bit shocked.

"Do you have a scientific name for them, Time Lord?"

"No."

"We're calling them thingies then." The little brunette looked happy with her win.

The time traveler grumbles and turned on his heel, exiting the dead woman's bedroom and heading for the apartment's front door. He opened it with ease causing Clara, who had been looking at the old woman's decorations, to run into the stringy man.

"Clara. I need you to figure out where we are. We could be anywhere from England all the way to Galifrey. Check, won't you?" He took her head in his hands and kissed her forehead, making her blush slightly. "Once you've got it, let me know."

He turned again, and started heading back to the TARDIS.

"Will do." She saluted him.

He turned back to her, waving his hands about. "Don't do that."

"Alright, alright! Sorry." She turned and stepped out into the hallway.

"Shout if you need anything!" He called, disappearing into the gloom that was the dead woman's apartment.

"I will, I will…" She mumbled, looking at her surroundings. The hallway looked fairly normal, but it took her exactly one second to realize where she was. In fact, she was surprised that she hadn't realized it earlier. She was in her own apartment building.

Right in front of her own apartment.

**That's all for now. The next chapter will be up as soon as I can get it up. Ahha. Hhh... Sorry for the long wait. But, please don't refrain from favouriting, following and reviewing this story! **

**~Matteo :33**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry (again) that I am so incredibly lazy and forgetful. But here's chapter six!**

Clara's shrill voice did not reach The Doctor.

Of course, if he had actually heard it, he would have come running towards her like some really tall, floppy haired knight in shining armor. But that was not the case. The man in question was dealing with creepy doll stuff, and no matter how important Clara was to his huge Time Lord hearts, creepy doll stuff usually came first. Usually.

But it didn't matter. As soon as The Doctor had shut the door of his blue box, he became entranced with the doll that he had stolen off the woman's shelf. It was strange, yet beautiful, in its own way. And The Doctor was so excited to crack it.

He held the Christmas toy up to his face. "What are you hiding, little toy of human Christmas cheer?"

The Elf on the Shelf said nothing.

The man, who was not a man, smiled. He loved a hard case, those were always the most enjoyable to solve.

He threw the doll onto the TARDIS console, causing the TARDIS herself to whirr at him, annoyed. He rolled his eyes at her, looking around for some tools that he could use to look at the doll more closely. The walls around him seemed to hum, and the Time Lord groaned.

"What is it now?"

The TARDIS made a series of whirs and clicks.

The Doctor sat up quickly, ramming his (rather large) forehead into the underside of a table. "OW! That was rude, Sexy! Clara is perfectly capable of-"

Sexy cut him off with a whooshing sound.

"Oi! She is too! She's smart and funny and she cares a whole lot about me." He wiggled a finger at the surrounding walls."Might I remind you that she saved my life. She can figure out where we are, no problem." He nodded his head, very sure of his petite companion.

The madman found what he was looking for and held it up to the light. It was a magnifying glass. And then he pulled another instrument out from the gloom. It was a small knife. It wasn't a normal knife though, nothing of The Doctor's was what anyone could consider 'normal'. It was a surgical knife. A sonic surgical knife, to be exact. He grinned at the new found treasures, and scrambled to his feet. There was a lot work to be done.

There was a rat-a-tat of a knock at the door.

Clara.

Perhaps that work would have to wait for just a moment.

The man with the floppy hair moseyed over to the door and opened it. He leaned in the doorway and looked down at her. Clara Oswald. With her brown hair that curved inwards at her thin shoulders. With those big chocolatey brown eyes, filled with wonder. Lips always curved into a brilliant smile, causing those beautiful little dimples to form in her cheeks. Dresses slightly too tight. Pointy little nose, making her look like a doll.

She snapped her fingers in front of his nose, and he snapped out of his little phase.

"Hello Miss Oswald. Did you find anything interesting?"

"I did, actually."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Doctor. That lady, the one with all the stitching done to her face, well... She is-was my neighbor."

He raised his almost non existent eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yes. Her name is-was Mrs Rosenthal. I barely saw her, she was always in her apartment. But when I did see her, she always gave me baked goods. Such a nice old lady."

She paused, looking the tiniest bit frightened. "I can't believe it... She was my neighbor. And she's gone."

He took her by the shoulders and leaned down slightly, so they were exactly eye to eye. "Clara Oswald." He whispered, his eyes seemed to glow. "I promise that nothing will happen to you. And I promise that Mrs Rosenthal will not have died in vain. We will find whoever is doing this, and we will stop them. You have my word."

And then there was that grin, that was the reason why she traveled with him. That grin that promised that they would be safe, even if they were in danger. The grin that told her that he would never give up on her. That he would protect her until the very end. "Clara Oswald, do you trust me?"

She smiled back at him. "I do."

"Good." He stood upright, confident yet still unbelievably childish. "Because you are going to have to tell me everything you know about Mrs Rosenthal."

**I will have the next chapter up sooner rather than later. I promise. If not you can just throw stuff at me until I do. If you haven't already, I would just simply like to ask you to favourite, follow and review this story! It would mean quite a lot to me (and it would completely make my day!). **

**Until next time!**

**Matteo**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 aka more about Mrs Rosenthal.**

There had not been much to say about Mrs Rosenthal. She was an old woman who lived alone with her cat and who, due to the decorations, obviously loved Christmas. The only reason Clara had remembered her in the first place was because she had been the only person to greet her when she first moved into her apartment. With her kind, elderly, and sweetly good-natured smile, she had warmed Clara's heart with a batch of freshly-baked, unburnt cookies.

And she had reminded Clara a lot of her own mother.

Mrs Rosenthal had handed Clara the cookies and had told her: "I know I'm probably not the neighbour that you wanted. I'm not exactly a handsome bloke, after all. But, if you do need anything, Miss Oswald, I am here." And it had been all the Clara had needed to feel safe at her new home.

"She had a heart of gold, she did." Clara recalled, wiping the tears from her eyes hastily. "Even after what happened to her husband."

Though he hated pushing her (and seeing her cry for that matter), The Doctor wanted to solve this. "What happened to her husband?"

"He died in a fatal car crash accident on their anniversary." She recalled the story briefly. It was similar to something out of a romance novel.

Boy and girl fall in love. Their families dislike each other due to their history together. Boy and girl decide to run away and start a life of their own, only to find out that they are too poor to have a wedding. So together, they blaze a trail of business and, still devoted to each other, and eventually have enough money to have the wedding. Boy and girl are happily married for a long while until they have a rather large fight that leaves the two of them not speaking to each other for days. On the day of their anniversary however, boy decides to fix things and goes out to buy flowers and such for the girl, only to be hit by an oncoming car. He dies in a hospital a few days later.

"That was very sweet," The Doctor paused. "until the end."

"Yeah." Clara sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Though of all people, why did it happen to her? She was such a nice woman…"

"The worst things happen to the best of people, Clara Oswald." He smiled at her kindly. "You of all people should know that."

He lept to his feet. The duo had been sitting across from each other on some of Mrs Rosenthal's heavily decorated chairs. But now was the time for action.

"Why do you say that?" She looked up at him as he attempted to fix his hair.

But he didn't respond. His brain was whirring too quickly to answer her question. But, she had a feeling she already knew the answer. Clara Oswald had lost her own mother while she was still quite young and had had quite a horrible time trying to put herself back together. Her mother's death had been the end for quite some time for the little brunette woman. But there were always new beginnings.

The Doctor was Clara's new beginning.

Or so she liked to think.

She watched The Doctor stride towards the TARDIS, throwing one of its doors open. The whole box seemed to shake angrily, and he mumbled a quiet apology to the machine. He stepped inside, and was about to close the door when he stopped and turned to me.

"Clara Oswald. For your safety, I am going to be conducting some experiments on our lovely little doll friend in here." He smiled softly at her. "So, don't worry your button nose, it'll only take a second." He wiggled his fingers at her and shut the door.

It was now time for that alarmingly frightening doll.

He turned to face the console, where he had left the doll in question. "Hello my little-" He stopped in his tracks, eyes widening in fright. The doll was nowhere to be found. He turned around to face the doors and tried to open them, but they were locked.

It was a trap. It had all been a trap.

He turned to face the rest of the TARDIS. Waiting for something… Anything.

And then a voice spoke. A voice that shook the whole room with its power. The blue-ish lights that usually filled the room with a calm aura, suddenly turned a violent shade of red.

"Well hello Doctor." The voice seemed to cackle, "Thank you for inviting us into your home. You have made this all so easy."

**Ooooooh! You probably most likely weren't expecting that! (I hope you weren't anyway!) But, that is the end of another chapter. I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to review, favourite, and follow this story! As well as me, if you aren't too busy... The next chapter will be up soon!**

**Until next time,**

**Matteo**


	8. Chapter 8

**It's been almost a year since I updated this story and I'm so sorry to anyone who is interested in continuing to read it. But anyway, here's chapter eight.**

* * *

Overflowing fear hit The Doctor like a tidal wave, pulling him out to sea with one quick swipe.

"Easy?" He sputtered. "I doubt it was easy. I'm never easy, I'm The Doctor!"

"You are The Doctor, indeed." The voice echoed off the walls as he looked around, trying to follow it. "It is nice to know that the last Time Lord in existence knows what his own name is. Or should I say, what he likes to be called."

The Doctor strode to the console, looking around at the red lights. They gave a rather eerie, evil effect to the whole room (as most evil sounding otherworldly creatures did). The calming, blue glow of his wonderful TARDIS had vanished entirely, making the dark shadows seem even darker, and a whole bunch scarier. He kept picturing armies of elves climbing out of the shadows, determined on attacking him when he wasn't looking. He got the brief image of his head but with an elf on the shelf face and he shivered. He knew if Clara was there, she would've told him that the TARDIS, his TARDIS, she was still there. Still around them. Trapped but, working her way out second by second.

He would've kissed his imaginary Clara if she wasn't imaginary. She was an absolute genius. He just needed to give his TARDIS some time.

And what a better excuse than to talk to the creature. That was what he always did: talk. It was all that he was good at. He could convince otherworldly creatures not to attack earth by talking. Talking was his ultimate weapon. The type of weapon that his enemy, the weird elves or whatever they were, would never expect coming. He could do this. The TARDIS, she could unstick herself, and then everything would be okay.

And Clara would never have to know a single second of it. She had enough weight on her shoulders worrying about Mrs Rosenthal, she did not need anything more.

"What do you want with me?" He began.

"With you? Oh, nothing." The voice snickered menacingly.

"Clearly you wanted something to do with me. Every single creature who decides it's a good idea to bother earth as well as The Doctor does. That is the only thing any of you ever want. So, what is it? No. Give me a minute," he strode around, pacing, trying to make it look like he was having trouble thinking straight, "I'll figure it out. I always do."

"Something to do with you, huh? Oh, that's somewhat closer Doctor." A brief pause. "Think harder."

"You want the TARDIS?" Everybody wanted the TARDIS. It was the last one in existence. Sure, it was a little rough around the edges but that was just how he liked her. She had a spark that none of the other TARDISes had back when Gallifrey was filled with the magnificent machines. She was his TARDIS. He was her Doctor. They were destined to travel the stars together, battle monsters together, and win! Not… Not this.

"For heaven's sake, Doctor, you really do have a thick skull." The voice sighed, bored. "That will be the end of you, we suppose. Your thick skull."

The whole room shook, and The Doctor was thrown to the side, forcing him to grab onto the railing to keep him from falling. The creature was upset. Or it was laughing. It was hard to tell. Creatures were always terribly difficult to understand when they were making noises that he wasn't used to. He could pick up languages quickly but, not that quickly. And the TARDIS wasn't helping. She had her own problems to worry about.

"Thick skull? I suppose so. Perhaps that's the curse of the Time Lords. A thick skull." He let out one loud, almost fake sounding laugh.

The Doctor hoped the creature, whatever it was, couldn't read his thoughts. But his mind was completely boggled. If they did not want the TARDIS, and they did not want him… What on earth could they possibly be asking for? Sure, it was selfish but, there wasn't really anything else that the creatures could want. Sure, capturing Earth was a usual target but, to attack one single TARDIS to take over earth? It was too small a ship to singlehandedly engulf the entire planet in flames. The creatures, whoever they were, they probably had a ship over their own.

Or maybe they did not have a ship at all.

Maybe they could travel through space without a ship.

That made him shiver. It was not a pleasant thought. If that was the case, he would really have to step up his Protection-Of-The-Human-Race game. He would have to set up boundaries around the earth that could seriously harm the space missions that the humans were so sure of taking to the moon and other planets. If he was in any other situation, he would've sighed. If that was the case with the creature… They were a force to be reckoned with.

"Let's give him a hint, shall we?" There was a brief pause as the creature took a moment to think. Or maybe discuss with itself. The Doctor wasn't sure. "What matters most to you in the whole world?"

"Me?"

What mattered to him. What kind of hint was that? Everything mattered to him. Every human, every universe, every single being. He did not want to kill, to mame. He was called The Doctor because he wanted to protect, to help. To change the lives of people who seemed so meaningless in the endless expanse of space, of history.

"We can practically hear your brain thinking, Doctor. Spit it out." The Doctor gave the ship a look. "Oh come on! We want to hear what you think. It's more fun this way."

"Well, your hint isn't a very good one. I care about everyone on this planet. Everything. Why would I protect earth otherwise? I love the humans, the animals. I love all of it. I care about all of it."

"Are you sure?"

"I do!" He meant it. But maybe, just maybe, they were talking about something specific. Someone specific. His stomach did a cartwheel. He did not like where the conversation was going.

"You take humans out to see the universe in your little snogbox. Their little lives would be so boring without you. So many… There have been so many… Who to choose, who to choose."

"Who to choose?"

"Yes, obviously. You're a lot more daft than people say you are. Of course it's one of them. One of the hundreds, thousands, millions of people you've dragged in here."

"Surely I haven't dragged that many people in here." He could name them all but he didn't ever want to give it a number. To give them all numbers… Now that would just force them all down to being tally marks on his metaphorical bedpost. Every person was important. Every single one from the ones that had died thousands of years ago to the ones who wouldn't be born until thousands of years in the future.

"Time has yet to tell how many people you will bring into this place. This dump. But, nothing will change what is about to happen." The creature was getting too impatient. They were going to tell The Doctor without him figuring it out. It would be more amusing to watch him struggle in pain anyway. "She has been selected, your Clara Oswald."

The Doctor felt something in his chest tighten. His Clara, his impossible girl. "Selected? What do you mean?" The term 'selected' could not possibly mean anything good, especially from what they had seen of the late Mrs Rosenthal. The image of Clara's head with the face of a stitched together elf on the shelf just made him angry.

"You really do not understand what we do here, do you Doctor. It's a pity, we figured that you would be smart enough to understand." The creature sighed loudly. "We are the elves, we watch, we listen. We provide a gift to those who pass on."

The Doctor raised his nonexistent eyebrows. "A gift?"

"Indeed. The dead, more than anything, their souls desire to reunite with those who are still living. To say a goodbye, one last goodbye. But, that is not as great as what we offer. No, our gift is the greatest Christmas gift of all. The dead wish to rejoin the living but that is impossible." There was a pause and The Doctor could almost hear the creature smile. "However, it is not nearly as impossible for the living to rejoin the dead."

The Doctor's hands felt cold and clammy. That, that was not a good Christmas gift. In fact, it was hardly a gift at all. And Clara… His Clara… She was selected. She was going to end up like Mrs Rosenthal lying on her bed in that very apartment.

The creature continued to speak. "The rules are simple. The dead and the living must still desire each other's company. They must miss each other. Just as the Rosenthal's did. Mr Rosenthal died, horribly, and he desired to see his wife again. Mrs Rosenthal desired to see her husband as well. And now, thanks to us, they get to see each other again."

The Doctor gaped. Sure, in theory the creature, the elves, they were doing something good for the human race. They were bringing loved ones together, and for the holidays as well. Allowing the missed to be seen, allowing the grieving to see those they missed. But to destroy the lives of those who still had lives left to live, it was almost too much to bear.

And Clara Oswald.

She was going to be their next victim.

The Doctor rushed to the door of the TARDIS and looked out the windows. The creature roared with what had to be laughter behind him but he ignored it. He focused on the petite yet, stunning young woman who had her back to him. She was entirely unaware of anything that had been going on during the last few minutes. Blissfully unaware. Although the situation was a bit hectic, he took a moment to just look at her.

Clara's hair sat gently on her shoulders, curving inwards slightly with a strange sort of elegance. She had her arms crossed tightly across her chest, and she looked a tad bit irritated about being left out for so long. She had a rather short skirt on but, she always had a rather short skirt on. It was strange though, The Doctor squinted at her skirt. He didn't remember the skirt having a splotch of bright red on it before. Perhaps she had spilled some paint when he wasn't looking. Perhaps-

He froze right there.

It wasn't a splotch of bright red paint on her skirt. No. Climbing its way up her body was an elf on the shelf doll. But that wasn't the worst of it. The doll had a sharp looking blade in place of its hand and it looked ready to kill. But even that wasn't the worst of it. The chinny Doctor pulled at the doors to his TARDIS but they continued not to budge. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as his mind raced trying to find a way to escape, to warn Clara. The laughter of the creature seemed to grow louder and louder, as the feeling settled in his stomach completely.

Both The Doctor and the creature had figured a horrible fact. There wasn't a thing he could do to save her.

* * *

**I believe I'm back on a roll again with this story so hopefully, HOPEFULLY I'll be able to finish it now that I'm on break. I'm really sorry to everyone who has/had been reading. I'm terrible about keeping up with my ideas and whenever I start something I never really want to finish it. If you're willing to forgive me, please send me a review, I would greatly appreciate it.**

**Until next time (I _promise_ it'll be soon!)**

**Matteo**


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